


Lazy Days

by FictionalMindFrame



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalMindFrame/pseuds/FictionalMindFrame
Summary: Future cuteness inspired by that ig post
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 12
Kudos: 103





	Lazy Days

Scylla lived for days like this. Rain pounding against the window, the sound of the wind whistling aggressively down the chimney, the crackling of the comforting fire next to the sofa. Saturdays and horrible weather filled her entire body with an unshakable happiness.

She’d spent so much of her life busy. On the run, on a mission, fighting a war. When everything finally stopped, when she realised that she had time, she hadn’t known what to do with herself. She’d never considered what would happen when she finished fighting, had only known that whatever it was would happen with Raelle. Initially, she’d filled all her time doing things, replacing all her old duties and missions with an unending list of smaller tasks. Raelle had hated it- still did when the brunette started persistently filling her schedule.

Eventually though, she’d outgrown her need to keep busy, and somehow now she found more solace in lazy days wrapped up in a world that belonged to no one but her and Raelle. She’d woken up first this morning, the smell of the rain invading the room through the window that she rarely ever fully closed. The soft skin flush against her front bled warmth into her, and when she nestled herself impossibly closer, wrapped her arm ever so slightly tighter around the petite body in her arms, the only response had been a contented hum.

They hadn’t moved from the cosy shelter of their bed for hours, until hunger forced them to venture out to the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around each of their torsos, the matching oversized pyjama shirts Tally had gotten them last yule not doing enough to keep the heat in. Even then, Raelle had been adorably clingy, arms secure around her waist and cheek rested on her back as Scylla pottered slowly around the room making pancakes.

They hadn’t made it the distance back to their bedroom, despite the inviting cocoon they’d left behind. When Scylla curled up on the couch and looked from Raelle to the fireplace and back, the blonde hadn’t needed clarification before she set the fire. It was messy work, and Scylla knew she hated cleaning the thing more than anything, but she always caved- eager to see Scylla look at her as if she hung the moon when the fire roared to life.

With the glow of the fire falling on Raelle’s face, Scylla couldn’t help but stare. She looked ethereal, and if she hadn’t spent years tracing the woman’s face, she might have though she’d imagined her. Meeting the blonde’s eyes, she stretched out and opened her arms, eager to feel the solid weight leaning into her chest. Sometimes she thought she would be satisfied to spend her whole life enveloped in the embrace of her fixer. Some nights she woke breathless and shaking, haunted by the horrors they’d so desperately tried to forget, and all that could pull her back was that familiar embrace, the beat of a pulse that had been too close to stopping too many times. Most days, she wasn’t able to indulge in hours and hours in Raelle’s arms, but on stormy Saturdays where they both had no responsibilities, they could spare the time.

Holding the remote in the hand that hadn’t reached around to tangle with Scylla’s, Raelle mumbled, “What do ya wanna watch?”

Scylla nuzzled her nose to the braids at the back of the blonde’s head, breathing deep with her eyes closed, “Don’t care.”

Knowing that that wasn’t entirely true, the fixer chuckled to herself, “Oh, so if I put on some reality tv that’d be totally fine?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Blue planet it is.”

Scylla leaned her head up to watch over Raelle’s head, stuffing a cushion to prop herself up, and then pulled the hand in hers to her mouth to press a kiss to its palm, “Love you.”

The words tickled against pale skin, sending a tremor along her body, but Raelle just squeezed her hand tighter and smiled sweetly, “Love you too, baby.”

When the credits rolled, Scylla had fallen asleep, so Raelle reluctantly separated their entangled limbs and started dinner. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the brunette stirred from her nap, so she decided to go for quick and easy. A disgruntled Scylla shuffled in ten minutes later, encased in both of their blankets, and grumbled her disapproval at being left alone.

Completely unsurprised, Raelle rolled her eyes and laughed, “Scyl, I didn’t abandon you. I’m making dinner.”

Raelle loved when the brunette had just woken up, she was almost always whiny about everything in her sleep addled state, “Who needs dinner?”

“I mean, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I have this wife, and she gets kinda mean when she’s hangry.”

The pout on Scylla’s face deepened, “I don’t get hangry.”

Raelle quickly pecked the pouting lips, hands moving to wrap around her waist. Scylla’s head fell to her shoulder and Raelle figured the other was sleepy enough that she could safely say, “Last week you shouted at me for boiling water too loudly because you hadn’t eaten since breakfast. How does someone boil water too loudly Scyl?”

“Shhhh.”

Pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of the brunette’s head, Raelle let herself enjoy the safety of the small kitchen against the backdrop of the noisy storm outside. The safety of the presence of the woman in her arms. The smell that was so distinctly Scylla that she couldn’t help but breath easier when it lingered all around her. The feel of their chests against each other, both rising and falling, hearts beating strongly.

Living.

Not just surviving. Living.

Having the time to laze around all day. Being able to lie on the couch and pretend to watch the TV. Cooking dinner impossibly slow because Scylla is clinging to her sleepily.

When dinner was finally made and eaten, the brunette came to life a little, but not fully.

“Bed?”

Scylla quirked an eyebrow, “Propositioning me?”

“I actually meant so you could finish that book you were up in the middle of the night reading, but if you’re open to being propositioned, then yeah.”

“Proposition away.”

A few hours later, Scylla did end up reading her book, Raelle’s head resting on her shoulder with eyes focused on her own book. The wind had faded to a breeze, the rain to a light patter on the window, and the grey outside the house faded back to the dark of the night. The brunette was entranced in the pages, nearing the book’s end, completely at peace in their little bubble.

She was so deeply invested that she almost missed it. Small snores filled the room, so delicate against the background patter of the rain that Scylla couldn’t stop the smile pulling at her lips if she wanted to. At some stage the fixer’s book had fallen from her limp hand onto her bare stomach, page lost until the woman searched through it again tomorrow and cursed herself for not marking it.

Scylla loved listening to Raelle snore. It was probably strange, but it had always made her feel fuzzy inside, even back when the blonde had been in basic. How open she was as she slept, how trusting. Back then, Scylla hadn’t slept often, guilt eating at her and memories she couldn’t ignore waiting for her to close her eyes. And then later, after everything had gone to shit and she spent every night wondering when one of them would stop being lucky enough to keep surviving, it became an obsession. A dead Raelle couldn’t snore, and she’d spent so many sleepless nights listening to the snoring purely to convince herself Raelle was okay.

Scylla finished her last two pages, free hand running softly against Raelle’s loose hair, before putting the story down and reaching for the light switch by their bed. Raelle roused at the movement but didn’t open her eyes, just patted the hand that had held the book around until it found Scylla’s waist.

“Scyl?”

“Shh baby,” The words were whispered as she brought a hand to stroke down her wife’s face, “Go back to sleep.”

“You finish it?”

Shuffling the two of them down, Scylla tried to jostle her wife as little as possible, “I did. Got distracted by a beautiful woman in my bed though.”

The fixer pushed herself further into the brunette as soon as Scylla stopped moving them to lie mumbling sleepily into her neck, “Love you Scyl.”

Hand in loose blonde hair, Scylla turned to press her lips to Raelle’s forehead, perfectly content in the loving arms and warm bed.

“Love you too Rae. Go back to sleep.”

Sleep didn’t take long inviting her into its restful bliss, as was the case more often these days, but still not always. Some nights neither of them could close their eyes. Sometimes they walked through the night.

But days like this helped. Days like this reminded their bodies that they were safe, that they could heal. Days like this weren’t something the dodger could’ve ever imagined and were something she would never give up.


End file.
